Statements of Yankee prisoners.
We are not among those who pay much attention to the stories of Yankee prisoners. There may be some honest ones in the large number captured, but they are few and far between. The most communicative generally put on an air of great penitence, say they are tired of the war, and assert that they will take advantage the first opportunity of relinquishing the service. But once exchanged, they assume again their rabid abolition professions, tell the most exaggerated stories of their treatment at the South, and pretend to burn with a desire to revenge the injuries inflicted upon them. One of the prisoners captured near Hanover Junction and brought to this city on Sunday, seemed very anxious while at Atlee's Station to relieve himself of the odium of having volunteered to fight against the South. He stated that he had "followed she sea" for a profession, and had always "sedulously avoided" the army; but coming in from a voyage, he got drunk, and, before he knew it, was a soldier. This is similar to the statements of many others, and possibly forms an exception to the generality of Yankee stories. There is no doubt of the fact that a popular method of filling up the ranks of the abolition army is to give the victim drugged whiskey, and while insensible from its effects, make a soldier of him, nolens volens. Another of the party was less communicative, and seemed averse to conversing upon his situation, or the movements of the Yankee army. A citizen finally asked him if Grant was retreating. The prisoner looked up, and replied in the true Yankee vernacular--"I guess he ain't." He was doubtless the most honest fellow in the lot, and his answer to the question furnished a key to his real feelings. The practice of conversing with prisoners is at best reprehensible, and should not be permitted by the guard having them in charge. There is little or no satisfaction to be derived from it, and it only gratifies the Yankee instinct for display.
